


Cestrum Nocturnum

by alder_knight



Category: Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare
Genre: F/F, Fairies, Femslash, Flowers, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Purple Prose, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alder_knight/pseuds/alder_knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Handmaidens has she many, and lovers more, but the woman who'd birthed the cooing baby boy before her had eyes like wet earth and hair like moonless night, and smooth honey skin that smelt always of jasmine.</p><p>Originally posted Sep 26, 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cestrum Nocturnum

For [](http://lizzie-marie-23.livejournal.com/profile)[**lizzie_marie_23**](http://lizzie-marie-23.livejournal.com/) , who has been my beloved prompt-trading buddy through many a shortfic meme.

 **Prompt:** [](http://ava-leigh-fitz.livejournal.com/125148.html?thread=1223132#t1223132)_A Midsummer Night's Dream, Titania & Indian Changeling Boy, he looks so much like his mother_  


 

* * *

  
The smell of flowers never becomes any less intoxicating, any less thrilling, for those of the fey court. Her Ladyship the Queen Titania is partial to the perfumes of violets and honeysuckle, and uses those flowers in particular to adorn the child, her handmaid's boy, swapped at birth with a mischievous púca and secreted away to the queen's enchanted bower.

"More primroses for you, sweet little one," she coos, as Peaseblossom and Moth approach, bearing baskets of petals and buds. They shower them over the child, handful by fragrant handful, as he shrieks happily and claps his chubby palms together. His neck and wrists are circled with strings of colored beads. His waist is wrapped with a belt of tassels and delicately tinkling bells.

The Queen pulls another shining trinket from a fold in her gown; a ruby on a golden chain, it had been her token of affection to the boy's mother. Titania collected it to save for the boy after his mother's death. It hadn't been painful, in the end - Titania had seen to that - but losing the woman to childbirth had been a devastating loss for the Fairy Queen.

Handmaidens has she many, and lovers more, but the woman who'd birthed the cooing baby boy before her had eyes like wet earth and hair like moonless night, and smooth honey skin that smelt always of jasmine. Titania had been wont to keep her bower positively lush with jasmine, but with her handmaid gone, she can no longer bear its heavy scent.

The Queen puts the ruby away and reaches out idle fingers to stroke the child's hair, the touch bringing back tactile memories of her hands in his mother's own straight, jet cascades of hair, hanging to her knees or piled high with braids and flowers. It pleased Titania to see her adorned so, and the woman would laugh as her nimble fingers darted through the black locks, plaiting and coiling the ropes about her scalp and shoulders. The Queen's hand stills on the boy's head as she shudders slightly, remembering.

More than just the woman's hair, she remembers her hands trailing along hips, neck, the curve of her bosom; she remembers petals of another sort parting at her touch, beautiful and lush, more heady than any night-blooming lily.

"My Lady," whispers Peaseblossom, drawing the queen back from her reverie, "are you unwell? May I bring you something for it?"

Titania blinks and finds her eyes wet. "Fetch me a spray of jasmine," she says distantly, cradling the changeling child to her breast, "sweet jasmine from the West Indes hills."


End file.
